


someday, we'll wait out the oncoming storm, but not today

by Sharkchimedes



Series: we could dance in the face of the monsters [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Nonbinary Character, Slice of Life, brief description of verbal bullying, takes place at the jedi temple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24158767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharkchimedes/pseuds/Sharkchimedes
Summary: Temple Guard Cros Mors may not be in the market for an apprentice, or even supposed to be identifiable while on duty, but that's not going to stop Iona from finding them.Or: a Guard's day is interrupted first by a rescue, and then by snack time.
Series: we could dance in the face of the monsters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1750189
Kudos: 5





	someday, we'll wait out the oncoming storm, but not today

**Author's Note:**

> its been more than a decade since i first got into star wars, and today is the day i finally publish shameless fan character fanfic fdshfhsdf. shoutout to my friend roen for sitting through so many random tidbits about this!
> 
> also cros is literally just my self insert fdhsfh

_ Thap thap thap!  _

The sounds of Youngling feet hitting the floor echoed in the massive Temple halls as the young twi'lek dashed for her life down them, taking a hard corner and nearly sliding. Shakily regaining her balance, she kept up the hard pelt, chest heaving.

_ Come on, come on- _

She should have been looking for any Knight or Master, or even circled back around to the lifts and gone to another level where there might even be Padawans, but her mind was in overdrive, and there was only one presence in the Temple that it could focus on, that knew that as soon as she came into their sight, they would fix it.

She could hear one of the initiates chasing her yelling, but over the roar in her head, she couldn’t hear what it was, and she didn’t  _ care _ . She just- she just had to get to  _ them, _ and it would be okay, she just had to-

_ There! _

Finally, she could feel the faint but growing presence she was running for. Throwing herself around the last bend in the corridor, she felt the Force ahead of her flare with alarm and concern, and as her legs startled to falter, and she could feel the white-hot closeness of her pursuers gaining on her back, she screamed,  _ “Sentinel Mors!” _

Through the blur in her eyes from the tears that fear and the stress on her body had drawn out, she could see the fuzzy tan and gold shape of the temple guard only a few meters away. Her lekku flared a warning-  _ they were almost on her now _ \- and she flung herself forward, yanking on the Force with an apologetic afterthought.

Suddenly, she was stilled, and then she found herself pressed against the plastisteel of the guard’s chest plate, and Sentinel Mors’ yellow eyes were peering down at her through the eye slits in their mask. She could feel the concern in the Force drawing around her in a blanket, and in the furrow of the pantoran’s shaded brow.

Later, she would feel the shame of identifying and seeking out a particular guard whilst they were on duty- the guards were meant to be anonymous, still pools in the Force, so that they could best mediate- but Sentinel Mors had always been easy for her to find, and in another life, she liked to think, one where they were not a Sentinel but a full Knight, they might have taken her on as a Padawan when she was old enough.

But here, in this life, and in this moment as she heaved for air and buried her face in the crook of their robes where they gathered at the top of the chest guard painted with the symbol of the Order, she could only focus on the soothing ripples of the Force as they swept around her and the pantoran. She felt the Sentinel shifting, standing back up, carefully holding her.

"What's all this, then?" They raised their face from her to the initiates, who had frozen in their tracks when they realized it wasn't a Padawan or even a Knight who had appeared, but a member of the Temple Guard. 

"N-nothing, Guardian. We were just- playing." One said- a human boy. The other, a duros, kept quiet. 

"And playing involves making a hyperlane of the eastern corridors, now, does it?" Mors voice was even and calm, as any Guard's should be. "I rather think you scared young Whalen here with your games." 

The pair quickly offered apologies; their fear at being caught, and the likelihood that this would be reported to their minders, was trailing out into the Force like little popping flares and made her lekku shudder.

"Well, I think you had better head back to class. I believe navigation begins soon." Mors nodded at the Initiates, and they quickly darted back the way they'd come. The retreating footsteps were neary at the same pace that she had come in.

A minute passed, and Mors sighted, the movement of their chest gently rocking her. "And I had better let Master Drallig know I will be taking leave from the remainder of my watch this morning."

She raised her head from their chest to look up at them, lekku twitching. "Sentinel?" 

Mors adjusted their grip to reach up and remove their mask, clipping it to a belt alongside their twin 'sabers. The hood of their robe fell, revealing the pantoran's white hair. Mors met her eyes and gave a gentle smile, the yellow markings on their face crinkling a little. "Youngling Iona; why don't you tell me a little more about how you got up here all on your own?"

Iona ducked her head again, suddenly embarrassed. “Um- they were just-” The Initiates’ words echoed in her head, jeers about how she was too small and too scared to be taken as a Padawan learner  _ now _ , with the war going on like it was. That Crechemaster Avali might be called away and  _ then _ who would care for Anooba Clan? Things that Initiates had always harassed Younglings with, but harder and more lined with cruel steel as reports of more dead Knights and Masters filtered down the Temple gossip chain every day.

“... Mean.” She finally answered. 

Mors eyed her for a minute, still and calm, but Iona knew they were reaching out to see if she was hiding anything more serious or clinging to anything  _ bad. _ Iona quickly focused on her own presence in the Force, and reminded herself:  _ emotion, yet peace. _ She imagined she was emerging from a pool, like one of the many in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and that the lingering fear was dripping and running away, down her lekku and her legs and drying off in the air.

She looked back up to see Mors smiling at her. “Very good, Youngling.” The pantoran said. “I couldn’t have done that so easily at your age.”

Iona blinked. “But- Sentinel Mors- you’re a  _ Sentinel! _ ” She couldn’t imagine them ever struggling with realizing their fear; after all, it was the job of the Guards to protect and defend the Temple, long before Coruscant had a Home Guard, and all of the other Temples too. How could a Guard be afraid?

Mors laughed, shaking their head. “And I was a Padawan before that- and an Initiate, and a Youngling. I’m sure Master Sowchin still tells stories about me that would surprise you. It’s lucky she doesn’t have hair or she’d tell me I’d turned it gray.”

She giggled at that. “But  _ your _ hair is grey!” She reached up and carefully padded the short line of their sideburn, and it prickled at her fingertips, starkly contrasting against her lavender skin. A bit of the pantoran’s blue skin was faintly visible through it.

Mors mocked an offended look, shaking their head. “I’ve told her and I’ll tell you;  _ my _ hair is supposed to be white. Sometimes my Master would say that my hair might’ve been lilac, but that all that nervous energy I was carrying had turned it white before I was found.”

Iona had never met Master Sowchin herself; the nautolan was a Sentinel herself, and rarely visited the Coruscant Temple, Mors had told her before. When they had been knighted, she had returned to duties elsewhere. But someday- she wanted to meet her. And not just to hear about Mors’ supposed anxieties.

“And speaking of being a Youngling- I ought to take you back before Crechemaster Avali hunts me down, hmm?” Mors grinned. “I don’t think she’d appreciate me keeping you.”

“Probably not.” Iona smiled, lekku relaxing again, and she shifted to get down. Mors let her, and offered her their hand, and she took it.

\- - -

The trip back to the lifts and then to the level of the creche was far less eventful than her first trip of the day. Only a handful of Jedi passed them: a pair of Knights on leave, and an older Master coming from a meeting with the quartermaster. All had given Mors a respectful nod and smiled at Iona before carrying on their way.

The dormitory was faintly buzzing ahead of them, the impressions of her own clanmates and those of neighboring clans all echoing into the Force and lifting the heavier atmosphere of the other levels. They passed the doors for several other clans before they came upon the entrance to Anooba Clan, and Iona could see that it was already open- because Cuduth and Py were both peering around into the hall.

It was hard to miss them, despite their attempt to be mostly hidden. Py’s purple lekku were bright in the otherwise light hallway, and Cuduth’s brilliant white fur and large primary eyes stood out beneath her.

“Iona’s back!” Py disappeared behind the lip of the door, presumably running to get Crechmaster Avali, while Cuduth slowly emerged, and seemingly recognizing the Sentinel with her as Mors, hurried to meet them in the hall. 

The talz worriedly chuffed at her, peering up and down with his four eyes. Iona smiled and released Mors’ hand so she could pat her friend on the shoulder. “I’m okay, Cu.”

Cuduth huffed at her, but satisfied, turned his head up to look at the Sentinel.

“I’m just here to make sure Youngling Whalen makes it back to your dorm safely.” Mors said, looking up from her clanmate as Avali swept out of the entry and joined them. 

“Iona! We were worried about you. You were supposed to return from morning meditation two hours ago.” The Crechemaster fixed her with a chiding look. Behind her, Iona could see Py returning to the door, now with Hazi and Vaac in tow, rounding out the members of Anooba Clan.

“Sorry, Crechemaster.” Iona bowed, letting go of Mors’ hand. “I got… distracted.”

“There was an incident with some Initiates- I’ll be making a report to Master Drallig about it. I don’t imagine they’ll appreciate the extra drills he’ll assign.” Mors said, winking at Cu. “I doubt they’ll mess with any Younglings again either.”

“In that case, thank you for your service, Sentinel Mors.” Avali’s features smoothed back out, and she gestured back towards the dorm’s entry. “If it wouldn’t be an imposition, Sentinel, I imagine the Younglings would enjoy having you stay? I imagine you have already broken from your duty today.”

Mors sheepishly laughed, nodding. “Yeah- I’ll have to apologize to whoever took the rest of my watch for that, but I couldn't exactly stay on once everyone in the great hall knew it was me standing at those pillars.”

Iona blanched, lekku twitching and anxiety suddenly flooding her, but a gentle hand suddenly was placed on her shoulder, and she looked up at Mors to see they were smiling. “Don’t worry about it, Iona- not the first time someone’s left their post before official shift change, and it won’t be the last. It’s my job to protect you- all of you,” they added, looking up from her to the other members of the Anooba Clan. 

The Crechemaster had a faint smile on her lips, and then she turned to herd Py, Vaac, and Hazi back inside. “Alright, since Sentinel Mors will be staying with us this afternoon, why don’t we show them some of our exercises and projects? I’m sure a Sentinel would love to answer any questions you have about the schools, as well.” 

Mors’ gave Iona’s shoulder a gentle squeeze before they let go and herded her and Cu after the Crechemaster.

The inside of the Anooba dormitory was a bit of a mess, as any of the Youngling’s dorms were- while Jedi may not have been known throughout the Galaxy for their possessions, it was hard to have any space full of children and  _ not _ acquire a few things for them, and these usually ended up scattered or out of place during the day. Crechemaster Avali, of course, was working to keep them in the discipline of tidying as they went, but Iona figured her disappear had probably thrown things a little into disarray.

Cu said as much, chuffing at her as they passed his abandoned holopad and flimsi sheets with notes, and nearly tripped over some project of Hazi’s that looked like it had been meant for a hydroponics class, but was now more like a pile of mismatched parts. There was an abandoned kit for a model ship on one of the low tables, and robes strewn here and there. 

Mors had paused at the door when they entered, checking the wrap of their robes and adjusting the setting of their ‘sabers down from duty-ready to something safer. Iona figured it was because on occasion, Younglings might try for a Knight’s ‘sabers out of curiosity. It was unlikely- Mors was aware of their locations at all times, the kyber in their settings bonded to them with a strength required of a Guard, but even a Guard could be distracted by Younglings and their sticky fingers.

Iona, of course, had  _ never _ tried such a thing.

(She had, once, one of her earliest memories; Mors had not been impressed by the attempt and had given her a careful but pointedly lecture about how a Jedi’s weapon was their life, and how Mors’ ‘sabers were more than that- they carried the lives of everyone else with them.

No Youngling tried again once they first received that lecture from  _ any _ Jedi, and Iona hadn’t tried it again, though when she was first given a training saber, she had tried to use two and mimic the Sentinel’s grip.)

So the rest of the afternoon was spent showing Mors their katas they were starting to learn, reciting the Code and the tenets, explaining anything within reach to the Sentinel as they tidied the room- and then trying to snatch extra bits of sweet grain from their share Crechemaster Avali had given them when it was time for the afternoon snack. Mors laughed and lifted their cup higher than any of them could reach- until Vaac and Cuduth charged and knocked the Pantoran over and Hazi recovered the cup with a shaky Force grab.

Crechemaster Avali just laughed as Mors was buried under the rest of the Younglings and the ensuing struggle ended in the pantoran’s dramatic defeat.

After that, the floor was given over to the Sentinel, who answered their questions with a patient and bemused smile, and finally, showed them one of their own advanced katas, lightsabers included. It was a rarity for a Jedi to carry two ‘sabers, and Iona and Cu and the rest watched, enraptured as Mors carefully worked through the movements, eyes closed and the yellow blades faintly humming. 

Iona thought it was  _ beautiful _ . The motions, the practiced ease with which Mors took them, the yellow hue and glow from the Sentinel’s sabers, to match the gold tones of the Guard uniform. No matter how much she thought of traveling to Ilum and finding her own crystals, and wondered what color it might take, some part of her would always be in love with the yellow of the pikes. Double bladed, and double wielded.

It wasn’t long after that that it was time for the evening meal, which mean Mors needed to take their leave and report in person to Master Drallig, and eat their own meal and clean up, as they would  _ all _ need to do, Crechemaster Avali reminded them as they retrieved their outer robes for the trek to the dining hall. 

Before they left, Mors pulled Iona to the side and knelt so that they were at her eye line. “Are we all better?” They smiled. 

Iona smiled back, and nodded.


End file.
